


Don't You Worry Child

by Capbuckyang



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kneeling, M/M, Multi, Playoffs, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 17:05:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10621308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capbuckyang/pseuds/Capbuckyang
Summary: Nicky pats his thighs and Andre drops, just like that. It’s not like it was the first time, when the boys all watched in a hushed silence, but it does quiet down a bit.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not quite sure how to define their relationship, it's not meant to be daddy kink, but he does call him Papa so. Just in case it feels like it, I thought I'd put a warning in if that's not your thing.

 

* * *

 

 

Nicky’s talking to John when Andre comes out of the shower. His curls are still wet, all but plastered to his face and he seems to be vibrating out of his skin. Ovie sees him and tugs his towel wrapped around his waist. Andre squeaks and hangs onto the knot. Ovie laughs and grips Andre’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his head, then a very knowing look to Nicky.

“Missed you in here, Burkie,” Ovie says and Andre’s smile lights up his entire face.

“I missed it too,” he says and Marcus ruffles his wet hair.

He’s biting his lower lip and shuffling when he’s finally dressed, gaze drifting towards Nicky every few minutes. John laughs when he notices and Nicky shakes his head.

It’s harder to adjust after being out for a while and Nicky should have been more consistent but road trips make it difficult. The second John gets up to shower, Andre’s next to Nicky.

“Papa,” he starts and his hands are shaking.

Nicky pats his thighs and Andre drops, just like that. It’s not like it was the first time, when the boys all watched in a hushed silence, but it does quiet down a bit.

Andre presses in close between Nicky’s thighs and Nicky’s glad he showered first, not that it would have stopped Andre, but still, this is nicer.

Andre whines when Nicky twists his fingers into his wet curls, pulling him up and closer, away from his groin and against the crease of his thigh. He sinks into him, mouth open and leaving hot, wet breaths against Nicky's soft work out shorts.

Andre settles slowly with a hand wrapped around Nicky's ankle for an anchor.

Nicky continues on with his conversation with John when he’s back from his shower and watches the younger rookies stare curiously at Andre. Oshie and Holts leave with Lars and Jay in tow, but Tom waits and looks over at Nicky. Nicky nods. He’ll take Andre home today. Andre’s all but pliant against him now, breathing deep and even.

Nicky’s still rubbing over his scalp soothingly.

Ovie’s the last one in the room. He catches Nicky’s eyes and gives him an indulgent smile. He’s quiet when he steps in closer, falling in right behind where Andre is kneeling. It always surprises Nicky, no matter how many times he sees it, how Ovie will let go of that boisterous energy and silence himself to keep the kids at peace.

Ovie slides a hand up along Andre’s back, settling on the nape of his neck. Andre snuffles closer and whines softly when Ovie squeezes the back of his neck.

“Take you home,” Ovie says and Nicky nods; he can’t leave Andre alone when he’s still so out of it and the kid probably doesn’t have any food at his place right now anyway, so Ovie taking them both home would be the best plan.

Nicky strokes down Andre’s curls and murmurs softly to him in Swedish. He looks up with sleepy eyes but smiles when Nicky tells him ‘home.’

 

***

 

Nicky's a light sleeper, Ovie’s always told him so.

When his bedroom door cracks open slowly, followed by the soft pads of someone's feet coming through, he’s already awake and waiting for Andre to look up from the floor where he’s trying to tiptoe carefully closer to the bed.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks and it comes out in muffled Swedish, he’s still tired if not asleep. Andre looks up and bites his lower lip, clearly torn between wanting to scuttle away, feeling embarrassed, but needing comfort more. Nicky makes it easy for the second one to win out.

He pats the space on the bed next to him and Andre slides in quietly. He’s flushed and vibrating a little, Nicky considers having him kneel first but he presses closer and slides his nose along Nicky’s arm, aligns his hips against Nicky’s thigh.

He’s hard in his sweats and Nicky’s too tired to do anything beyond push him back till he’s lying face up, skin blotchy pink, and cock tenting his loose grey sweats.

“Could have told me earlier,” Nicky reprimands him and Andre closes his eyes, shakes his head, needy but embarrassed and it's adorable, makes Nicky smile despite himself.

Nicky rolls onto his side and slides Andre’s shirt up to his arm pits, tugs at the chain around his neck.

“Papa, please,” Andre says, almost whining now, when all Nicky does is rub over his nipples, run his fingers up and down his stomach, scratching softly.

“Take them off,” Nicky says and tugs at the waistband of his sweats. Andre hurries to oblige, kicks them down until he’s bare on the sheets, muscles tense and dick bobbing up against his stomach.

Sometimes, seeing him this vulnerable in Nicky’s bed makes him question if it’s the right thing, doing this for Andre, or for any of his rookies that need him, if it’s something that is normal or something that’s just theirs, something unique and necessary. When he wraps his hand around Andre’s cock and it jumps at his touch, precome leaking at the head, he knows it can’t be wrong, not if it’s to make the kids feel better, give them comfort and anything else they need; that’s his job as an alternate captain and he’s happy to do it.

It’s also different with Andre, since he’s basically adopted him as one of his own kids, someone who he holds more affection for than he knows what to do with, but he disregards that train of thought when Andre pumps his hips up and whines low in his throat.

“You were so good tonight, you know,” Nicky murmurs in soft Swedish and rubs his thumb over the head, dragging the slick down to make his strokes easier. Andre’s too worked up to process much, but he does smile and blush at that, tilt his head up for an affirming kiss.

Nicky gets him off like that, kissing him slow and lazy, jacking him off with one hand until Andre’s coming with a low groan, thighs quivering as his cock spurts wet and messy all over his own stomach and Nicky’s fingers.

“Clean,” Nicky says and Andre takes Nicky's hand and licks over his palm and sucks on his fingers, cleaning up what’s there, then takes off his shirt to clean up the rest.

Nicky's hard, but exhausted to the bone, more in need of a good night's rest than an orgasm right now, but Andre still pouts when he says sleep now, more later. Nicky kisses him quiet and wraps his arms around him to stop his wandering hands.

He’s still naked and Nicky means to tell him to put on a pair of boxers for decency; there’s always several or so of his teammates that show up for breakfast at least, but Andre settles close and tucks his face against his neck and he forgets.

The doors cracks for a second time and Ovie comes in, his expression melting at seeing them on the bed, and he’s quiet when he slips in behind Andre.

“Tom and Kuzy fine?” Nicky whispers and Ovie nods, reaches around to brush a strand of Nicky’s hair back.

“Da, sleep, Backy,” and Nicky closes his eyes.

 

***

 

The playoffs make everyone jittery, either with nerves or excitement.

At practice, Nicky watches Andre closely, sees the way he’s favoring his right leg and worry takes hold of him in the pit of his stomach.

He finds Ovie’s eyes across the room, like he always does, and Ovie raises his eyebrows. It might be odd to some, how they can have almost complete conversations with just their eyes, but their boys have come to accept it, even rely on it.

Ovie takes a minute after practice, when they’re all showering and changing, to make sure they know, especially the rookies, that hiding any injuries during playoffs is not okay.

“You tell us, even if scare you not play anymore,” he emphasizes and it’s his Captain voice, the one that sometimes make Nicky, despite all these years, squirm a little in his seat.

Nicky sees Andre’s shoulders hunch where he's sitting, his heads ducked down, fingers picking nervously at the loose thread at the edge of his shirt. Nicky makes it a point to be the last one in the room before he catches Andre’s arm as he’s leaving with Tom.

“Show me,” Nicky says to Andre who looks more resigned than shocked at Nicky's concerned expression. Tom hesitates for just a minute, watching Andre and Nicky, wanting to ask what is going on and considering leaving them to it.

Ovie comes back inside to grab his bag and takes Tom with him.

Andre shuffles his feet for a minute but doesn’t try to deny or hide anything. He slips his gym bag onto the floor and starts for the edge of his shirt, but Nicky stops him. Sure they’re alone now, but there’s still the staff people milling around and he’d like a bit more privacy.

The showers are still wet and steamed up, but they’re alone in here and Nicky doesn’t plan on staying too long anyway.

“Show me, Andre,” Nicky says again and this time, as Andre strips out of his clothes, his movements are determined, not shaky.

“It’s nothing, Papa, I know my limits, okay?”

His eyes are guarded when he drops his sweats and Nicky sees the large bruise on his left thigh. If he were wearing boxers, it would cover up half the purplish bruise, but he’s not so Nicky traces the blotchy skin with his finger tips and Andre hisses.

“Showed the trainers?” Nicky asks and Andre takes a minute to respond, too distracted by Nicky’s fingers on his thigh. His cock is already half hard, which doesn’t surprise Nicky, but for a second he wants to punish him for not telling Nicky about the bruise, wants to press into the tender spot and tease him with light brushes across the slit until he’s begging for it.

He doesn’t need that though, and neither does Andre, not right now, with the Playoffs around the corner.

“Kneel,” Nicky says in Swedish and Andre goes down, but carefully now, mindful of his bruise and the wet tiles on his bare knees. Nicky doesn’t plan on keeping him down there too long, so he's not too worried about getting something softer for his knees.

He runs his hands down Andre’s curls and tugs at the ends, feeling the tightness in his chest loosen when Andre mouths at his cock through his pants.

“No, not right now,” Nicky says and Andre whines but listens. He'll have Andre lie back on a bed when they get home, so he's not straining his knees or his bruise and fuck his face with his cock if that's what Andre needs, but right now is about making sure he takes care of himself, is more careful; that's what this entire thing is about.

Nicky needs to take care of him.

“Playoff hockey is brutal. You tell me when you get hurt, or when you need me, ja?”

Andre nods, his nose rubs along Nicky’s cock and he’s not hard yet but if Andre continues to nuzzle and pant against him it won’t take long.

“I’m sorry for not telling you Papa, I’ll be careful.”

Nicky squeezes his shoulder, indicating that it's been enough time and that he can stand now.

Andre’s knees are shaky so Nicky reaches out and balances him, ruffles his curls as he dresses himself again, tucking his still hard cock back into his sweats. Andre pouts, and Nicky laughs.

“Not in the showers, we go home, need nap,” Nicky says and Andre, despite being taller, tucks himself into the crook of Nicky’s arm easily.

“Food first? I’m hungry,” Andre says as Nicky leads him out the door and into his car.

“You’re always hungry,” Nicky says as he gets into the driver’s seat and rolls his eyes when Andre makes a scoffing sound.

“I’m a growing boy, Papa, I need food!”

“Ja, I know, let’s get you home so I can feed you.”

Andre grins and leans over to kiss Nicky’s cheek as he starts the car.

 

***

 

They win their first game in the playoffs.

Andre’s grinning ear to ear in the locker room, they all are really, the excitement and happiness is palpable.

Ovie kisses Nicky’s head once he’s done with the media in the room and goes off to shower.

Nicky sits at his stall, his boys around him, his kids and the vets, all chirping or laughing or yelling excitedly about the awesome goal or save.

Andre’s halfway out of his pads and under armour when he drops to his knees in front of Nicky’s stall.

“Papa?” he asks and Nicky smiles, he’s already on his knees, not flinching anymore since he listened to Nicky and the trainers and iced his thigh in the right way to heal more quickly.

Regardless, Nicky won’t ever say no.

He nods and watches as Andre shuffles closer and rests his head on his thigh. His curls are a sweaty, tangled mess, and Nicky’s aware they both need to shower, but this first, just a moment.

“We’ll win the cup, ja?” Andre asks in Swedish and Nicky stays quiet for a minute, brushing Andre’s hair softly, watching the bustle in the locker room, sees Holts talking quietly to Schmidty, Beags and Tom trying to rough house but mostly just holding onto each other with dopey grins on their faces, and Shatty ruffling up TJ’s hair.

They have the potential, they have the dedication, they might win the cup, or at least make it far enough to stay memorable. It’s better to stay positive for the younger ones, give them encouragement and a way to find comfort and strength, rather than worry over their chances and different factors affecting their team. That’s more for him and Ovie to worry about.

“We better win the cup,” Nicky says finally and feels Andre grin against his thigh.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://avasilevskiy.tumblr.com/)


End file.
